Ashes of Eden: Homestuck Short Stories
by maidofwyldewood
Summary: Infinite timelines, infinite dream bubbles, infinite possibilities play out before you. Short drabble collection based off a conversation a friend and I had. Multiple ships. Rating change may come later. More character tags to come. Typically will be 1000 or less words per short. Updates roughly every three days until series is concluded. Suggestions open.
1. Chapter 1: Karkat ? Gamzee

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and the world around you was just violently painted violet. A minute ago, your former morail had been intent on killing you. Seconds ago, he had been chainsawed in two. Now you stand splattered like a Jackson Pollock painting.

Whoever the fuck that is or whatever it means.

Kanaya is saying something to you; she looks quite upset, but you cannot hear her. You just stare. Stare at the pool of purple blood. Stare at the clothes you will never be able to wear again.

 **Karkat: Look at his face.**

You don't want to, but you do anyways. A startled grin is on his lips, blood dribbling out between sharp teeth. His face paint was a mess; three scabbed scratches marred his forehead and cheeks. Your blood pusher clenches, thinking about the olive blood who made those scars, and her body, still inside. More because you hadn't stopped him than at the loss of her. That was incredibly selfish and morbid, you realize, and stow the thought in a corner of your mind that you don't touch.

It's his eyes that startle you the most. You were so used to the supor-stoned swirl of black and deep purple. Intoxicated and so intoxicating sometimes they'd made you forget what it was you were raging about and you'd just stare. When he'd been sober, the little you had seen him sober (when he had decided your mutant blood would make a brilliant paint), they'd been sharp, black cuts on a purple backdrop. Now, they were mist, grey, in a yellow sky.

 **Karkat: Feel sick.**

This whole day made you want to vomit, but there was nothing on your stomach to give. Even being drenched in your best friend's blood couldn't call anything forth.

 **Karkat: Feel remorse.**

For what? For a shitty excuse for a morail, who'd just murder and/or mutilated the corpses of your companions? Who, until he'd ran out of pie, only survived because of _you_ reminding him to eat, reminding him to bathe, to be a living fucking being besides a juggalo douchebag? Or maybe because inside yourself, in that corner you don't touch, you know you should have laid in that damn horn pile with him more, papped and shooshed him, sought him out when he vanished like your gut had said to, learned how to make those damn pies so none of this shit would have happened, been a _better morail._ No, you don't want that.

 **Karkat: Feel sorrow.**

Oh, there's been plenty of that, but why more? Why over this clown motherfucker? Who cares if you never read that obnoxious text again, never heard that honk again, brush that wild curly hair, feels those large hands ruffle your own hair, touch you, smell that sickly sweet smell that was just so him, so right, hear that baritone voice like smooth jazz wrapping you up in warmth, security, sanity, calm, for once in your damnable existence.

Maybe because for a minute, in the middle of his rage, for just a second, you had seen him. Your morail, _your_ Gamzee, come back and hesitate, sorrow and something else swirling those eyes again, making him stop long enough for Kanaya to take him down.

Maybe because you'd never be able to wear this sweater again, these pants or shoes, because no matter how much you wash them you will always see it, always see his blood on them.

Or maybe it's that little black book, in the very corner of that part of your mind you never touch, that book that has every thought and feeling and dream- and boy, did you have a bangin' imagination- about that fool. That your relationship had never been as cut and dry as quadrants. Because sometimes that pale glow went black, and other times- oh gog, those times, like when his hands were on your face and those eyes bored right into the core of you- it went red as your blood. Maybe because you never got the bulge stones to say anything, and now that he's dead, now that he's gone, NOW, you're looking in that corner, touching that book, reading every line, NOW you have the courage.

 **Karkat: Cry.**

But everything was already a blur of red violet.


	2. Chapter 2: Aradia ? Sollux

Your name is Aradia Megido, and watching the vast destruction of worlds must be one of the most beautiful things you have ever seen. You've seen thousands of timelines end in less than a blink, but it still never loses its wonder. This one was doomed from the start, as soon as Eridan and Vriska had taken control of the respective teams. You used to feel sad, watching all your friends deaths, but not anymore. The loneliness still remains, however, even jumping timeline to timeline, bubble to bubble. Time travelling alone was a terrible thing.

This time, however, you're no longer alone.

You look to where your companion stands, his one remaining eye shimmering in the light of the fires around you, taking in the beauty of destruction. He would forever be half blind, half dead, but he was still the same inside, where it mattered. He could have moved on, had a peaceful eternity in a dream bubble; but instead, he had remained with you, said he wanted to traverse time with you.

 **Aradia: Stand beside him.**

It felt so good, being beside your best friend again. You stay on the side he can see from, as to not startle him. He was still your Sollux, but he wasn't quite the same. He had been through and seen too much to be exactly the same. He was still him, though, and this was all you'd ever wanted, to be beside him. The world around you may have been falling apart, but you had never felt so content.

 **Aradia: Reach for his hand.**

You do. He doesn't resist.

 **Aradia: Be Sollux Captor.**

It was fucking weird, watching the world end. Or rather, _a_ world end. All fire and darkness and ash. You wonder what Karkat would say. You can almost here Eridan bitching and whining. Terezi giggling like a maniac. But they aren't here anymore.

A small, warm hand grasps yours, careful, soft. You glance at the Maid of Time next to you. The maroonblood is staring at the sky, watching ashes dance with the stars. Her red painted lips are parted, wonder sparkling in her grey eyes. She'd never looked so beautiful.

Once upon a time, when things like quadrants and titles had mattered, you'd thought she'd make a great morail. Maybe even a great matesprit? But then she had died; you had, unknowingly killed her. You'd gotten closer to Feferi, AA had become a smoochbot for that sweaty jerk Equius. Then she'd exploded after telling you- only you- and hugging you- only you- good bye. Now here she was, a goddess in red.

You realize how trippy your relationship has been.

But none of it mattered now, because here you were, side by side, wit no need of quadrants or titles. You had forever in the palm of your hand.

Just the two of you.

 **Sollux: Squeeze her hand.**

You do. She looks up at you, so full of hope and affection. She smiles that same warm smile you remember from so long ago. Even this burning universe couldn't take your breath away like that smile.

 **Sollux: Pull her closer.**

You do, and she leans her head on your shoulder. Your horns lightly brush as you lean into her.

No words.

Just peace in chaos.


	3. Chapter 3: Sober Gamzee X Tavros

This is the first chapter of the series to have a definitive pairing: Sober(?) Gamzee(red)Tavros. This is a sober Gamzee, like, been sober for a few sweeps now Gamzee and Tavros (as stated in the description, this series is based off the headcanon/assumption/implied notion that there are infinite outcomes possible through dream bubbles and the time players meddling.) There will likely be some OOC moments; I mean, Gamzee isn't an easy character to write, anyways (at least for myself), let alone in a timeline where he only went slightly cucoo. This is, I suppose you could say, a trigger warning. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.

* * *

Your name is Gamzee Makara and the voices have finally gone silent. Well, almost. On really good days. But the bad days still outnumber the good ones, and they still tell you to... to... What were you thinking about? You can't remember and it frustrates you. This happens a lot, too. You'll be in the middle of a thought, an action, a sentence and it will just... Go. You're not sure where. Maybe to the tiny hole in the floor that's sometimes there, sometimes not.

Thankfully, you have a very patient matesprit, who you snuggle closer to under the blanket. He understands. He understands and is so red for you. He understands disability, especially from living with his own. After a certain spiderbitch- MIRTHFUL MESSIAHS DAMN HER you will get her for damaging what is yours BUT SHE IS ALREADY MOTHERFUCKIN' ROTTING in the cold hard ground- threw him off a cliff and rendered his lower half useless. The blueblooded motherfucker had fitted him with new metal legs, but that didn't fix everything. Certain... faculties would never be the same, couldn't be simulated or recreated. But it didn't bother you none, you loved your Tavbro, and his soft voice, patient ways, and gentle eyes. Those big, chocolate eyes... Soft mohawk of curls...

He is sleeping soundly beside you, snoring softly. Even that was so motherfuckin' cute, it made your insides warm up, more than pie ever had. It had been a long ass day, finished off with one fine ass night. Maybe things couldn't be replicated, but damn was it still so amazing, tangling up together, all touches and kisses and...

 **Gamzee: Stroke his face.**

You run your fingers down his face- whoa definitely need to trim the claws YOU COULD ALMOST TEAR THE FLESH OFF HIS BONES WITH THOSE- tracing his jaw, his lips. A sigh leaves them, and he smiles. You giggle at the sight. Your mind was still too sharp, too clear, but he could still bring the old you back, even without supor, without faygo, somehow even with the highblood urge throbbing in your temples, he made you feel balanced.

Even when the fits of rage showed up.

 _balance_

Even when the memories and nightmares sent scream ripping through your throat.

 _BALANCE_

Even though, one day, you could very well kill him. BECAUSE HOW DARE A LOWBLOOD TOUCH YOU IN SUCH A WAY, MAKE YOU FORGET YOUR MOTHERFUCKIN' PLACE but oh gog you love it.

 _BaLaNcE_.

You were so red you may as well have been a mutant like Karbro (honk), the shit coursing through your veins.

Sometimes it scares you, though. Being this deep, this far gone.

Because you were a descendant of the Grand Highblood, of the Subjugglators. Royal purple blood flowed through you, you were HIGHER THAN ANYONE ELSE- that was the blood talking, the voices, not Gamzee.

One day he would be gone, either culled or of the old age of lowbloods- a blink of an eye of the lifetime you could live- and you would be alone.

That alone terrifies you.

What you could be- WHAT YOU MOTHERFUCKIN' ARE- terrifies you. The thought of being alone with the voices for sweeps upon sweeps, terrifies you.

 **Gamzee: Cuddle that motherfucker till the voices, and the fear, and the dark go away.**

So you do.


	4. Chapter 4: Nepeta ? Equius

_Apparently, I can't write anything that is totally happy. I mean, this chapter is fluff by my standards. Bittersweet cotton candy._

 _Also, I'm in the slow, painful process of adapting this into a comic, as it was originally meant to be, so pardon if it's really poorly written. I'll post a link to my Tumblr and the comic on my profile and in this chapter later on._

 _Enjoy one of my favorite pairs._

* * *

Your name is Nepeta Leijon and you are furly certain you are dead. One minute you had been staring into crazy purple eyes and the next, you had awoken here, alone. You vaguely remembered having a sudden headache, and then blackness. You shuddered to think about what that could mean. You suppose it no longer mattered. You gaze around at this foreign world around you. Large trees with white blooms glow in the starlight, phos-fur-escent, revealing lush grass dotted with patches of flowers. The sky above you is dark, but twinkling with stars, bands of them, wrapped together like tails. A river was quietly murmuring nearby. You feel a tear run down your cheek. It was beautiful.

You stand, realizing you are barefoot, and begin to move to the riverbank. If only Equius were here to see this. A pain stabs through your blood pusher. That's right. Equius. Your strong, sweaty, large meow-rail. You had been scooting through the vents, hiding as he had asked when you had seen him and Gamzee. Seen him as he choked, a smile on his face. Seen his beautiful blue blood spill out of his mouth and onto the ground. That's when you had jumped out of your hiding space after the clown. Your efforts had failed.

Oh, Equius. Sure, he'd been bossy, pur-spired more than living thing you'd ever seen, and had been a weirdo, but he had been yours. Your best friend. Your balance. Your moirail. So purely and palely yours.

You stop in at the edge of the water. Olive tears are streaming down your cheeks. You would never see him again. It seemed that you were alone here, wherever you were. Small fish danced through the water. Normally, you would feel compelled to paw at them, but now... you feel so blue.

Blue as his blood had been.

You look up at the sky again, the lights blurring in your vision. "Equius," you begin.

"Equius... I know I wasn't a very good meow-rail. I know I didn't listen to mew as much as you wish I would have. And I know that you being my fur-end was so beneath you. But..." you swallow, "you still took care of me. You put up with my stupid role-plays, and my tackle-pounces, and-and-"

A sob racks your chest, but you continue.

"A-and I loved mew you m-much. Equius." More sobs, and a sniffle. You can't make out any details around you anymore, just blurs of color.

"Y-you were p-purfect, Equius. So purrrfect and I'm s-sorry I couldn't save mew!"

You rub your eyes, wishing the tears would cease.

"I-i just wish I had told you more, showed you how much you meant to me! I wish you were here, now, so I could h-hug you again."

"Equius." Sobbing.

"I'll al-always be pale fur you, Equius."

The pain just kept building, your mouth unable to find the right words. Gog, if this was the afterlife, you would sooner die again.

 **Nepeta: Feel a hand on your shoulder.**

You freeze, a sob dying in your throat with a gasp. A hand. A... very large, cool hand. A clammy hand.

No... No, it couldn't be, this was a dream, this was...

"Nepeta." There it was. That low rumble that always calmed you. Slowly, you turn.

There it was. That familiar face. The one comfort you always found, even after Pounce had died. Straight, black hair. Broad shoulders. Rippling muscles. Broken horn. Deep blue eyes. His sunglasses were gone, but you also vaguely become aware you no longer had your hat, either.

"Eq-" your voice left you. The one time in your existence that you couldn't say anything. Go figure.

The large hand moved to your cheek, brushing the new tears that began flowing. Blue eyes met green, sorrowful and apologetic.

"Forgive me, Nepeta. I did not mean to cause you distress. And also because, it would seem, I failed to protect you."

He was asking you... to forgive him. When you had been the one who had left him to die. When you hadn't been enough. A sob rose to your lips, but was stopped by a small kiss to your nose. Equius cupped your cheek in his hand- his large, sweaty hand- while the other ran gently through your hair. You'd never realized how truly gentle he could be. This was the most affectionate you had ever seen him. It was so... warm. So pale, like... pink. Yes, that was the color. Pink.

You suddenly loved pink.

You slipped forward, wrapping your arms around your moirail's thick neck. He was here. You weren't imagining things. You buried your nose in his hair, inhaling. Him. You kissed his neck. Him. You, gingerly, ran your finger along his horns. He shivered and flushed bright blue. Him. Then he startled you.

He slipped his arms around your tiny waist and hips, and lifted you up. Up until his face was against your chest, listening to your blood pumper thrum wildly. Until you were eye level with the top of his unbroken horn. He breath tickled against your collarbone. You squeezed him with all your strength. It wasn't like you could smother him; you were both dead. But at least you were dead together. The blueblood murmured against your chest, so softly you almost didn't hear him.

"I love you, too. And I will always be pale for you."


End file.
